It Takes A Forest
by Cyndi
Summary: Friends take care of friends. Something on the Milano makes Groot think he's on Halfworld again. He goes into a self-injurious tailspin and it becomes the only way he's able to communicate. His friends recognize something is wrong and do everything possible to comfort him. But what set him off, and what will calm him down?


Author's note: So the autistic!Groot bug bit me again and here's another fic for the _Autism Isn't a Tragedy!_ series. As I've said in all previous fics, I'm autistic myself and do not presume to speak for all autistic people because we're unique in how it affects us.

 **TRIGGER WARNING FOR AUTISTIC READERS:** There is lots of SIB (self-injurious behavior) along with discussions and brief flashbacks of abusive ABA-like therapy.

As for what inspired this fic...I had a rough few days with difficulty speaking, SIB and sensory issues because I didn't feel well. I had to wait for the stim my nerves craved, which was to sing with my church choir. That was a hellish three days! This coincided with reading an article where parents posted humiliating anecdotes about their autistic children's behavior problems. I understand the need to vent, but these parents were using dehumanizing language while making it all about how hard it was for _them_. Yes, behaviors you don't understand are frustrating, stressful and even gross, but think of how it feels to communicate a need and having it misunderstood over and over. Then you get mad and it gets called aggression. Now imagine finding out your caregivers post humiliating things about you on the internet and call it "venting". It's not pretty or nice.

All that said, here's what a behaviorally difficult time is like from the inside. Groot is lucky in this fic because he has proper support. Many families don't. I hope it teaches people some compassion.

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 **It Takes A Forest**

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 _"You know when you give your love away,  
it opens your heart, everything is new.  
And you know time will always find a way  
to let your heart believe it's true..."_

-Enya, "Amarantine"

.o

Groot beamed at finding yet another mandala coaster not matching the pile in his hand. They were a staple of the Sri Yantra casino and hunting for new variations was a great distraction whenever the din wore on his nerves.

Eventually, the randomly moving people, flashing lights, wildly patterned carpets, various scents, ringing bells, footsteps and voices blurred together into a single experience not related to any specific sense.

The elevated bar, tucked neatly into a mezzanine level near the casino's main exit, was an island in the sea of noise. Groot hesitated at noticing the bar's transparent floor. Patting it with his hand before he finished ascending the lighted black staircase convinced him of its solidity. He crossed it to perch awkwardly on a bright red barstool.

Behind the bar, an elderly bartender dressed smartly in a dark crimson suit dried several colorful cocktail glasses. He was a dour looking Xandarian with a bald head and jowls hanging over the corners of his wrinkled pink mouth.

Groot watched the bartender using his peripheral vision, which was just as clear as his central vision. He could read through the corners of his eyes if he wanted to. The bartender watched him, too, he noticed.

A woman wearing clunky heels exited the restroom. She descended the stairs while Groot examined the menu on the mirrored gold bartop. He didn't raise his hand for the bartender until he saw what he wanted.

"Yes, may I help you?" said the man, his jowls reducing his reedy voice to a low, barely-understandable mumble.

Groot turned his data pad on. He positioned his fingertip and drew the various shapes that spelled out words. Spelling did not happen by remembering a specific letter order- he spelled by recalling the patterns he traced. Turning his wordless thoughts into words was an extremely difficult task, but typing words closely symbolizing _his_ thoughts proved far easier for him than forcing others to remove the words from _their_ thoughts.

His finger touched the green arrow icon in the upper corner and the data pad spoke with a robotic voice.

 **I would likes a sweets fruits martinis, pleases.**

Fruit martinis tasted good and he could drink at least twenty before he absorbed enough alcohol to affect his brain. He didn't like the disorientation of intoxication, so he always backed off on drinks when his hands got tingly.

The bartender glanced between Groot and his data pad. His lined forehead glimmered under an overhead light.

"Do you prefer it with or without salt?"

 **With salts, pleases.**

Just like that. No further questions. The bartender set a mandala coaster down- this one was an awesome silver outline of the Sri Yantra mandala instead of a solid square coaster- and prepared the drink right before Groot's eyes.

 **Thanks you very much.**

"You're welcome. Would you like a complimentary cigar?"

The bartender showed Groot the box of green Kree cigars.

Groot wasn't a fan of the Kree, but they sure made good cigars. He took one from the box and placed the head end into his mouth. The bartender kindly cut its foot at the shoulder and flipped the cigar cutter upside down. A bright blue flame popped out of the bottom. Groot rotated the foot of the cigar over the flame to warm it before placing the head in his mouth, pressing the foot closer to the flame and gently inhaling. He checked his reflection in the mirrored bartop to make sure the cigar was lit and sucked a puff of smoke into his mouth.

Kree cigars smelled and tasted like the fallen leaves littering a forest floor. Groot lost himself in the sensory information. Sipping the salty-sweet fruit martini magnified his experience. For just a moment he swore he was back on his home planet again. Back where white morning mist poured between dewy leaves and waterfalls hissed in the distance. Back where soft mud squished beneath his feet as he nibbled fresh sweet berries off a nearby branch.

Then he exhaled the smoke through his tiny nostrils and swallowed his first martini sip. His memories retreated, leaving him once more in the Sri Yantra.

Getting so caught up in memory nearly made him forget an important step to ordering a drink. He scanned the area for signs of Rocket coming near the bar. The martini was cheap and he prepared himself to ditch it if he spotted his furry little friend approaching. His eyes swung left, right, upwards and downwards, all fields of vision in play. He finally glimpsed Rocket joining Quill at the Krylorian No Limits Hold'em Poker table. Excellent, that game kept him busy.

Groot paid the tab, sipped his martini and puffed his cigar while filing through his collection of coasters. Most were square with several color and line variations for the Sri Yantra mandala design. His new favorite was the round silver one underneath his martini glass. He greatly enjoyed holding it up to his eye and peering at the lights through the triangles.

This casino didn't have any prohibitions about smoking or drinks on the floor, but Groot had no desire to juggle his coasters, his data pad, his cigar and a cocktail glass all at once. He finished his martini, scooped up his coasters and data pad and headed down the steps with the cigar clutched safely in his teeth.

Upon reaching the table where Rocket and Quill were playing, he used his awareness of air currents to determine which way the air conditioning vents blew. He positioned himself so his cigar smoke wouldn't blow in Quill's face. Quill said his asthma was under control thanks to his Esonophite patches, but Groot liked to be cautious anyway.

"Hi, Groot," Quill grinned. He had a sizeable pile of red chips by his elbow.

"Hey, Groot!" Rocket waved. He also had a good sized chip stack. "You wanna play?"

"I am _Groot?_ " Groot shook his head and asked if he could check out everybody else's hands instead.

"Get your own damn chips!" Rocket gave a coded affirmative.

Groot circled the table, appearing to look around at the slot machines while using his peripheral vision to read everybody's hole cards when they lifted their upper corners to check. Then he took full advantage of their inability to understand him by telling Rocket exactly what hands they held. He raised the pitch of his voice at the end, making it sound like a question.

" **I** am **Groot?** "

"No thanks, not thirsty," Rocket said, one of many fake responses indicating he got the message.

He won that hand by a landslide.

Scamming casinos- one of their oldest tricks for obtaining units quickly. Groot missed doing it. Panhandling was another fun game. Rocket would claim Groot had brain damage after a ship crash and needed money for surgery to get brain implants so he could talk sensibly again. All while Groot smiled sweetly and said crude things only Rocket could understand.

Unfortunately, _that_ came to a swift end when they tried it on somebody familiar with Flora Colossus neurology. Groot pretended to have a seizure- and did it so badly that he and Rocket got arrested for causing a public disturbance. So much for the surgery sob story. Still, it was funny to remember!

Groot wandered randomly around the table for the next hour, dutifully helping Rocket build up a sizeable pile of chips. Rocket folded or deliberately lost a few hands to avoid suspicion.

Quill grumbled when the dealer placed the white button in front of him and dropped some chips on the middle of the table. The blind came to three-hundred units.

Something else crossed Groot's awareness while he observed the poker game. Rocket's posture looked off. To everyone else he sat exactly the same way as he always did. Groot's keen eyes spotted the tension in the back of his best friend's neck.

Rocket lived with constant, chronic pain due to his implants. They hurt his neck, back and joints every second of every day, and he stubbornly shunned painkillers because he was afraid they would dull his reflexes. He grew so used to a certain baseline level of pain that he functioned perfectly normal and only remembered his body hurt when he had flares.

Groot shifted his weight, watching the slightly stiff way Rocket reached for six chips totaling hundreds of units and placed a bet. He got rigid when he had pain flares. And he was ignoring it.

Then he noticed Groot staring and jabbed downward at the floor with his middle finger. The act mimed thrusting one's finger into another's anus, which was an obscenely rude Kree gesture for 'fuck your ass'. Groot rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the game.

Everyone bet or called and watched the dealer's hands for the flop. More betting and checking commenced. Chips rattled together. The atmosphere around the table grew tense.

Rocket went all-in at the turn. His expression revealed nothing.

Finally, the dealer dealt the river card. Rocket had a royal flush and laid his cards out for all to see. Quill dumped his full house, laughing. The Aaskvarians playing next to Quill threw their cards down and left in a huff.

"You didn't tell me Groot smokes," Quill said to Rocket when Groot blew a perfect smoke ring across the table.

"Groot's lungs turn anything into carbon dioxide, even smoke and poisonous gas." Rocket collected his big win and arranged the chips into neat piles, "Cigars are nothin' to him. He calls it 'flavored breathing.'"

" **I** am Groot," Groot added.

"Yeah, yeah, I know you don't make 'em a habit," said Rocket. He shifted on his seat and his tail pointed due south, "Now seriously, quit pacing. I need to focus."

That was code talk for _stop checking cards, we're being watched_ , and his tail indicated the Guna floor boss observing the table. Easy to spot because of his red satin vest, whereas all the other dealers wore matte black ones. The stout Guna's hard gaze had no kindness behind it.

Groot nudged Rocket and pointed to the front of the casino with his thumb. Seeing the Guna sealed it for him- he wanted to get out of there.

Later, he would regret departing without Rocket.

"Leaving? Fine. Just don't wander around the city alone. This planet ain't as nice as Xandar and I don't want you chopped up into furniture."

" _I am_ Groot," said Groot.

"Don't tell me to lighten up!"

Quill snickered, "Geez, Rocket, chill! He's not helpless."

"That's just it, Star-Dork, Groot's _not_ helpless, but he's way too _nice_ for a place like this."

Groot nearly blew smoke at Rocket's back for that, but held back for Quill's sake. He knocked Rocket's chip stack over, grinned and stepped away before the little raccoon could cuss him out.

Sometimes, it paid to jerk Rocket's chain.

Moments later, Groot's eyes zeroed in green skin and dark hair fading to red. Seeing Gamora approaching the exit couldn't arrive at a better time. He snuffed his cigar before disposing of it in the recycling station by the trash bins.

" _I_ am Groot!" Groot called after Gamora as he caught up. He hurriedly tucked his collection of coasters into a vine-woven pouch he grew from his hip.

Gamora paused at the doors. Groot hesitated at the border where the black, red and gold carpet became glossy dark red tiles. The change in pattern looked like a chasm, one he would fall into if he took another step.

She saw his reluctance to move and approached him.

"Coming with?"

Groot's eyes ghosted along her cheekbone. He nodded once. Seeing her feet planted firmly on the tiles realigned his depth perception. Now he could follow her into the cool twilight dimness. Moving between the loud casino and the quiet outdoors left his ears ringing and his bark tingling.

Planet Sagevsal's cities came to life once the sky was black and the stars came out. Right now, at sunset, hardly any traffic traversed the broad alleyway outside the circular Sri Yantra and its neighboring buildings.

Groot balanced his data pad on his right forearm and slid his left index fingertip around on the digital keyboard. Gamora waited patiently while he typed. The data pad's word prediction software sped the process up.

Finally, Groot touched the green arrow.

 **Drax says this planets has a greats markets places next to the ships hangars. Can we goes there?**

"How coincidental, I was actually heading there myself for the same reason. I need something."

His face lit up at that. He offered Gamora his hand. Unexpected touches from men- including asexual plant aliens whose physique looked male- made her uneasy. She once said men tended to get close with her to get one thing, and she often traded that one thing for survival. Discussing the matter caused her so much discomfort that Groot didn't pry further. Instead, he ensured she always had a choice and that it was okay to refuse.

Gamora accepted his hand without hesitation this time. His hard bark-covered fingers practically swallowed her smaller, softer green ones. They walked hand-in-hand across the stone bridge and Groot couldn't be happier. People took holding hands for granted far too often. Such a simple, small gesture, yet it conveyed many things and connected two living beings on a level beyond words.

The marketplace had rows of outdoor kiosks arranged under weatherproof tents. Merchants peddling products that would show up in stores if successful busily set up their merchandise. Some kiosks had bright halogen lamps shining down on them while others utilized strings of smaller lights. A few more had glowing LED signs advertising their products.

Groot cringed as Gamora led him past a particularly bright, flashing cyan display sign. Sometimes, being tall put those obnoxious things right at his eye level.

"I'm looking for thread. Some of my clothes need repairs," said Gamora.

That cued Groot to glance at all the nearby kiosks, seeking the one denoting sewing supplies. He jiggled Gamora's hand and took the lead once he caught sight of it.

"I _am_ Groot," Groot gestured to the sign.

"Oh, there it is! I wonder why it's so far away from the fabrics," Gamora remarked, walking quickly to keep up with his loping pace.

Groot let go of her hand as they reached the sewing supplies kiosk, which had a luminous lamp shining down on the colorful spools laid out in neat rows. The young Krylorian merchant didn't approach until Gamora held two dark spools under the bright light to gauge their colors. Who knew black could come in more than one shade?

"I'll have four of this shade," Gamora held up the darker of the two spools.

The merchant calculated the price. They were high quality spools and quite expensive. Groot waved Gamora's hand away from the credit keypad and keyed in his own payment code. Then he tried to wink like he saw Quill do, but ended up awkwardly squeezing both of his eyes shut instead.

"I **am** Groot," he said, letting her know it was a gift.

Gamora chuckled and ducked her head. "Thank you. Would you like to look around?"

Groot nodded and turned right around to study the display of toys in the kiosk behind him. His gaze was immediately drawn to something sitting by itself on a shelf with raised edges. A shiny rainbow-colored thing bearing resemblance to a flying saucer. The top half had a red handle like a cooking pan lid and the bottom came to a rounded point. Looking closer at the rainbow patterns let him discern they were broken by white lines. Very similar to a mandala, but three-dimensional.

He cautiously tapped the strange object. Metal pinged against his fingertip. That same fingertip went to his data pad.

 **This is beautiful things!**

"Yes, isn't it? It's a toy," Gamora explained, "I had a top very similar to that when I was a child, although it was purple and white, not rainbow colored."

Her face bore an expression Groot couldn't read. Not happiness, yet not entirely sadness either.

 **What does it does?**

"It spins. Here," she brushed her loose hair behind her ears, "let me show you."

Groot let Gamora lead his hand to the red handle. She guided him through pulling the handle upward, revealing a spiraling silver rod, and pushed it back down again. It let off a satisfying clanking noise. The pumping motion set the top spinning. If he pumped it more, it spun faster. When whirling, the top's white lines blurred the colors into a continuous spectrum.

Amusement rumbled in Groot's throat as he watched the top spin and travel along the shelf until it bumped the raised edge. Such a marvel of physics! It began wobbling on its axis until it came to a stop.

Groot set his data pad down and cranked the top again. He bent as close as he dared to watch the colors blur. Such remarkable beauty in something so simple! Unable to contain himself, he clapped his hands together and allowed himself another delighted laugh.

"...oh, now isn't that precious," said a woman's voice.

Gamora twisted and replied, "Are you speaking to me?"

"Mmhmm. It's so sweet that you bring people like him out into the world like this. He must have the mind of a three year old child...is he difficult to handle?"

Suddenly, Groot found himself standing up straight and peering over his shoulder at the Kree woman. Embarrassment twisted at his innards- this stranger saw him being himself and voiced the worst assumption possible.

"...my daughter's youngest is 'slow' and has the mind of a- hello! You must have heard us talking about you..." she spoke at him in a talking-to-babies voice before returning her attention to a practically-squirming Gamora, "he functions very well for someone with a three year old's mentality."

Groot's embarrassment quickly became anguish. His three-syllable growl was met with one of those fond smiles that didn't take his mood seriously. He snatched up his data pad and typed as quickly as his fingers allowed.

 **You functions very well for an ignorance ass-faces. Nobody is a child traps in an adults body no matter what kinds of brains they has! A child has a child's minds and an adults has an adults minds. Now talks to me likes I am an adults.**

The woman's 'aren't-you-cute' smile dropped like someone punched her in the stomach. Groot stared at the wrinkle forming between her eyebrows.

"Rude," she snapped and immediately stalked away.

" _I am_ **GROOT!** " Groot shouted, but his calling her an ignorant jerk went without being heard or understood.

Gamora's mouth dropped open. She looked up at Groot and waved her hands as though silently asking if that conversation actually happened. He frowned, then nodded. Oh yes, it certainly did!

Groot watched the Kree woman until she became just another head of whitish hair in the growing crowd. The quietness of the marketplace was gradually being replaced by chatter, footsteps and various objects making noise.

A nudge from Gamora reclaimed his attention. She offered him the top.

"Here, I just purchased this. It's yours."

He never expected reciprocation for buying the thread. Her generosity sent gratitude blooming within his chest like flowers. Unable to contain it, he thrummed happily.

"You're welcome," Gamora's expression morphed into a smile. She didn't smile often- life rarely gave her reasons to.

Groot glanced about as the noise level grew louder still. He straightened and typed on his data pad.

 **Can we pleases leaves? It is gets very loud.**

"Of course. Do you wish to return to the casino or the _Milano?_ "

 _ **Milano**_ **.**

"Very well. I'll carry your top."

This time, Gamora held up her hand. Groot accepted it and let her lead him through the increasingly cacophonous marketplace. He was grateful for her help- at this stage he would have gotten hopelessly lost trying to find his way back out.

They had just cleared the lot when Groot noticed a diminutive furry form staggering onto the stone bridge. His happy mood sank. He recognized that careful gait from a distance.

Rocket was drunk.

Groot knew the Guna could be a trigger, and he left the casino anyway. Rocket's triggers were extremely unpredictable. He had a few that remained constant no matter what, but more often than not something that didn't upset him one day had the potential to set him off on a different day. The color of someone's shirt, how a person coughed, a tone of voice...even the temperature of a room were all sparks and Rocket was the tinderbox.

Now Groot felt like the world's worst friend for leaving Rocket during a vulnerable moment. He should have stayed. Why didn't he recognize the problem beforehand? Why?

"Groot?"

He looked down at Gamora. She released his hand and nodded her head in Rocket's general direction.

"He needs you right now. I'll take these to the ship. Let me take the data pad, too. You may need both hands."

"I am Groot," Groot agreed.

She accepted his data pad when he handed it to her and continued walking towards the refueling hangar.

Groot folded his arms and assumed his usual tough guy stance. He let Rocket stagger across the entire bridge. Part of him was angry at his best friend for giving in to temptation, yet the kinder part reminded him that they experienced complex post traumatic stress disorder in drastically different ways. Anger wouldn't do Rocket any good right now. He fought his mental illness every single day, and even the best fighters couldn't win all battles.

With that thought, Groot let his arms unfold to rest at his sides. Rocket stopped at his feet and looked up. His moist brown eyes squinted like dark beads in the amber lights illuminating the bridge.

"The fuck're you lookin' at?"

" _I_ am _Groot?_ " Groot replied with a question of his own.

"One shot of Asgardian whiskey...just one this time..." Rocket wobbled and began rambling, "...they didn't knock me out. They gave me a paralytic, they shoved a tube down my throat and started cutting. They started fucking cutting! Do you have any idea how that feels?"

Groot remembered regaining consciousness to a saw boring into his chest. Its hot sharpness sent white pain all through his body. The dissection stopped when someone saw his heart beating.

Yes, yes he did know how it felt. It happened only once to him. Rocket got taken from his cage and dumped back in it several times. His injuries looked more grotesque after each subsequent surgery. The main implants were placed while he was still a tiny ball of baby fluff.

And he endured it while awake. He never admitted that part before, although Groot had an inkling.

Reflections of scalpels gleamed in Rocket's eyes. Groot's heart broke for his dearest friend. He knelt and scooped Rocket up into his arms. Touch, the one thing he could always use to give solace.

" **I** \- am _Groot_."

"Everything hurts!" Rocket snarled. He punched Groot's pectoral bark. The blow felt like a painless tap. He started kicking his feet and swearing. Suddenly, he dug his right-hand claws into his own left shoulder.

Groot pressed Rocket tighter to his chest, preventing him from harming himself. He took comfort in realizing Rocket's nose still felt wet despite his intoxication. This wouldn't be like the previous incident. Time, water and sleep would sober him up again.

"Break my neck," whispered Rocket, "Either you break my neck, or you let me jump off this bridge."

"I am **Groot,** " said Groot.

"I _know_ I'm having a flashback! I don't care! The pain's real...it's real, Groot, and I'm tired of being a monster!"

"I am Groot," Groot told Rocket he definitely wasn't a monster as he hurried towards the blue and purple sign above the hangar housing dozens of ships. Among them, the _Milano_. This time she was parked on the top deck instead of the bottom.

The elevator inside the hangar emitted a horrible screech. Groot cringed and struggled not to bang his face against the wall. His ears rang when he ducked out of the elevator and into the _Milano's_ interior.

Drax exhaled heavily as he performed several one-armed push-ups in a row before switching arms. Gamora sat in the kitchen area with a dark red shirt in her lap, contentedly mending the seam of a sleeve.

Something was...off. Not with the people in the room, something in the room itself. Something just beneath conscious awareness.

Groot put the oddity aside and focused on his routine for dealing with a drunk, triggered Rocket. He carried his furry friend to the bathroom and set him down next to the vacuum squat toilet, which looked like a rectangular silver slit in the floor.

"I don't need to piss," grumbled Rocket.

"I _**am**_ Groot," Groot told him to try anyway. He politely turned his head to grant privacy.

As it turned out, Rocket did need to go. A lot. All that fluid would have ended up on his clothes and bedding. Groot shut his eyes and covered his ears when Rocket flushed the toilet. Nothing would convince him there wasn't a living black hole inside the vacuum drain. He still believed looking into the drain would alert the black hole to his presence and it would come flying out to spaghetti-fy him.

Someone tapped on the outside of the door.

"I need to use the facilities," said Drax.

Rocket snapped, "Piss in your pants!"

Groot nudged him with his foot and pushed the door aside. He shot Drax an apologetic look as he ushered Rocket out.

Drax gave the briefest of nods before they shouldered past each other. He unclasped his pants, pushed them down to his thighs and squatted without shutting the door. When it came to nudity, he had absolutely no shame.

"Is he...seriously? Drax, you squat to pee? Holy shit!" Rocket's raucous laughter echoed off the floor.

Groot remembered Drax confiding in him that he knew he had to use the bathroom, but could not interpret the signals for liquid or solid waste. He squatted or sat to avoid mistakes. In the same vein, he couldn't tell if he was hungry or thirsty. He usually nibbled on food while getting a drink unless he consumed alcohol to get drunk.

"He squats to pee!" Rocket kept guffawing, "I can't friggin' believe it!"

"Mind your own business," Gamora said without looking up.

"It's everybody's business if he leaves the door open. Hey, Drax, you feeling a draft?"

Drax's back twitched and a vein bulged behind his right ear. He wasn't someone who got embarrassed easily, however the hunching of his shoulders spoke louder than words.

Groot swiped the door shut, grumbled a reminder that he and Drax had the same neurology and the only difference was how it manifested. It wasn't fair to laugh at people for things they couldn't help.

Rocket rolled his eyes and staggered towards the bunks. Groot felt grateful his foul mood had been momentarily derailed, but wished it hadn't been at Drax's expense. Then again, Rocket used insults and mocking to deflect his own negative feelings onto someone else. Making them feel bad meant he didn't need to face how bad he himself felt.

Now that he no longer had Drax to bounce off of, he shuddered and reached for his shoulder again. Groot blocked his hand with a fingertip.

"I'm not gonna scratch. I'm taking my shirt off."

Grunting, Groot withdrew to let Rocket fumble with the buckles. Silver implants and scarred, pink skin revealed itself when the shirt slid off his back. Scarred because his body kept rejecting the metals implanted in him, leading to further mutilation via subsequent surgeries. Rocket's life was infections, agony and bleeding until the scientist, Jormin, found a metal his immune system didn't attack so viciously. The implants went in, the incisions healed, and Rocket would live with chronic pain the rest of his life.

"I am Groot?"

"Yeah..." Rocket's shoulders and tail sagged, "...I feel like I'm being cut open. It's getting worse. It's-" he doubled forward, holding his stomach and whispering, "- _help_ me."

"Rocket? Do you need-"

" _No_ ," Rocket cut Gamora off.

The guilt Groot felt swelled like a wildfire. He promised Rocket to never hurt him while they were trapped on Halfworld, and he thought he did a horrible job at keeping it. Because if he kept his promises, he wouldn't let Rocket get hurt at all, ever.

Groot helped Rocket climb onto the bunk, guided him to lay on his stomach and gently massaged his back with the heel of his left hand. Right now, Rocket needed a gentle touch. Something pleasant to drag his mind free from the black hole of memories intent on devouring him.

Drax exited the bathroom. His footsteps plodded towards the bunks.

"Drax," hissed Gamora. Whatever followed happened in silence, because the approaching footsteps retreated towards the kitchen.

Rocket closed his eyes and mumbled, "I treat you like crap...call you names...make you put up with me like this..."

" _I am_ Groot," Groot told Rocket about all the times he helped him through things he never could have managed alone. He told Rocket how he was the first alien to understand him and treat him like a competent person. Most importantly, he let Rocket know he considered himself the luckiest Flora Colossus alive to have such a great friend in his life and he wouldn't trade what they had for anything.

"You're such a sappy idiot," said Rocket, "but you're _my_ sappy idiot. Always, really and forever."

Chuckling, Groot emitted his happiest humming noise and massaged Rocket's back until his breathing indicated he'd fallen asleep. He would feel like crap later, but falling asleep drunk meant he had less nightmares.

The oddity inside the ship zapped across Groot's mind again. Like chasing a rainbow, it eluded his full awareness. He struggled onto his feet, took the vine pouch full of coasters off his hip and set it on the hand-sized shelf by Rocket's bunk.

Gamora's gift drew him towards the kitchen table. He picked it up, turned it over in his hands and smiled

Off to the side, Drax puffed through sit-ups. Exercise was his way of self-soothing after experiencing too much sensory input. He must have been greatly upset by Rocket mocking him in the bathroom.

Groot tacitly sat on Drax's legs to apply the pressure he craved and make his sit-ups more effective. He smiled at his friend, faced forward and began working the top. Feeling the handle vibrate while listening to its clanks sent pure joy shooting into his chest.

Once the top built up a good spin, he let go and bent close to study how reflections of the overhead lights were distorted by tiny imperfections in the top's metal surface. How could anyone not marvel at those beautiful colors blurring together?

Groot watched the top wobble to a stop. Delight coursed through him again. He flapped his hands to dispel it, laughing. Then he picked the toy up to sniff and lick it. His teeth were excellent tools for determining an object's hardness and texture, so he gently bit one side and the pointed bottom. The metal responded readily to pressure. It wasn't very thick. Dropping this fantastic top wasn't an option.

He didn't realize he was rocking back and forth until he set the top on the floor again.

"Somebody at the marketplace tried to compare him to a child. I see why...and at the same time I see why _he_ was offended by the comparison," Gamora whispered to Drax. She often forgot about Groot's acute hearing.

"Hmph," Drax huffed through another sit-up, "We are not children trapped in mature bodies."

Groot slid his data pad off the table, brought it online and began typing. He realized the metaphors in his second sentence would confuse Drax, so he deleted and re-typed until he laid down words that expressed his thoughts in the most literal sense.

 **I am aware of how I looks from the outsides. How I looks and how I thinks and feels are as opposites as wets and dry. I knows why people doesn't thinks I am smarts, but it is still annoys to gets speaks to likes a saplings.**

That thing beyond notice kept vying for his attention. He shoved it aside to glance up at Gamora. Drax paused his sit-ups.

Gamora placed a hand on her hip and pretended to look offended. Groot could tell because she tried her hardest not to smile and spoil the illusion.

"Point taken," she said, "and for what it's worth, I recognize your intelligence for what it is. I failed to do that before you had a data pad, and for that I sincerely apologize."

A shrug from Groot forgave her oversight in one fell swoop. He felt Drax resuming his sit-ups and shifted his weight to better keep his legs pinned down.

At last, he could give the top his undivided attention.

.o

No light penetrated the darkness inside the _Milano_.

Groot's eyes twitched beneath their lids as he slept sitting against the wall by Rocket's bunk. His dreams were always lucid. He recognized he was dreaming, he could control his actions in his dreams, but he could not always change the content of the dream itself. So he felt perturbed to dream of wandering the featureless gray halls of the Halfworld prison-laboratory. There were no people, no sounds, just the sight.

And a _smell_...

He jolted awake after tripping over a cart in his dream. Reality didn't feel real because of that _smell_ lingering.

All those emotions he squelched since he boarded the _Milano_ surfaced like a brewing storm. His fingers tingled with need for an exact texture. A knot tightened his throat because he knew the texture he wanted wasn't readily available. He tried to ignore the craving and resume slumber.

Tingling sensations shot up his arms, zapped the roof of his mouth and flowed down his back. He covered his mouth with both hands to stifle a surprised groan. The need continued accelerating without giving him a choice in not resisting. He scrambled towards the one place inside the _Milano_ with the texture his body screamed for.

Darkness veiled the flurry of movement. Groot forced a waist-high panel off the wall, reached in, found a handle and slid it to the left. Now his whole body prickled like a forest on fire and only the right sensation would put it out.

He plunged his hands into the squishy, wet softness. Its awful smell and the wrongness of his actions didn't matter. This was the texture his body needed to quiet itself. He scooped out two handfuls and smeared them on his arms. Two more went on his chest. Then he submerged his hands under the soft, smelly wetness and groaned with relief.

The airlock hissed and the overhead lights came on at their dimmest setting. Quill danced inside, his head buried between his headphones.

"Hi, Groot," he said, "What'cha d- whoa. _Whoa_."

Quill removed his headphones, shut off the music device and set it on the table.

"Groot, you're covered in- what the hell? What're you doing to the _Milano's_ septic tank?"

Groot wiped more brown muck on his legs. He felt so much better that he laughed and slapped the wall, leaving dirty handprints. The disgusting smell and color didn't matter. His nerves weren't screaming anymore.

Quill gagged audibly and turned away. "I'm gonna get Rocket...just stay there. Stay right-" he gagged again, "-there."

The next few moments became hushed voices and footsteps.

Rocket whispered to Quill, "Ohhh yeah. Okay. He's sensory seeking. I'd let him stay there if it was anything else, but that's an infection waiting to happen. And I know you can hear us, Groot, and you'll counter us if you hear us talk, so Quill..."

They moved away and the rest of the whispers became inaudible for several minutes.

Groot heard the plop of, boots, socks, a jacket, pants and a shirt being removed. An arm wrapped around his waist from behind. He ignored it and kept squishing the sewage between his fingers.

"He knows you're there, Quill," murmured Rocket, "you aren't a sensory priority right now. Don't say his name or he'll zero in on what we're saying and anticipate."

"Is this going to upset him?"

"Yeah, big time. That's why we need to move fast. Time it right and he won't process it till it's too late. Now..."

A happy hum rumbled in Groot's chest. He glanced down when Quill's other arm encircled his waist. Just a hug from behind by a friend. No big deal. His attention went right back to the soothing texture. Its stink drowned out the scent that woke him up in the first place.

Everything was right in the world.

And it all changed in a split second.

"Now!" Rocket shouted.

One moment Groot's hands were buried in sewage and in the next they weren't. Quill dragged him sideways around a corner. Downward shoulder pressure prompted him to sit on something rubbery beneath hot spraying water. Humid air and the enclosed space made the stench of sewage stronger. The muck he smeared on his chest started rinsing off like mud. Confused, he wiped on a fresh layer using what was still on his hands.

Quill retched and leaned over as if to vomit without actually doing so.

Rocket knocked over a bottle of something purple when he scrambled past Groot's feet.

"Quit clowning around, Quill! We've gotta get his wrists clean before his brain catches up!"

"What about-"

Rocket sounded almost frantic, "Forget what I told you before! This's an emergency! He's not gonna care about the sewage on his wrists when he starts biting himself. Now hurry up!"

The hot spray shifted to Groot's hands, wrists and arms. He tried to turn away from the water that came from nowhere and everywhere.

"Sorry, Gr-" Quill, gagging yet again, pushed him to face the nozzle, "-Groot. Really sorry about this."

Scrubbing with sponges commenced. They, too, emerged from random directions until Groot started to understand where Quill took him. By the time he oriented himself and recognized the shower, his arms were clean, sewage ran down the drain in the corner and the sponges spread soap on his chest. He tensed with an uneasy whine.

"Sorry," Quill said for the millionth time, "this is really out of order isn't it?"

Groot tried to voice his ire. The three syllables he normally spoke wouldn't materialize, so he moaned instead. Unpleasant tingling sensations erupted inside him like a newborn thunderstorm and the lightning's first strike hit when Quill let go of his shoulder to grab more soap.

He shoved his left wrist into his mouth and bit down with all his strength.

"Shit, there he goes! Gimme the- yeah, he needs a redirect," Rocket grabbed Groot's left hand, "Let go, Groot. I've got your chew tube." He held up the red rubber tube.

The tube registered in Groot's awareness. He couldn't make his mouth let go of his wrist.

"Quill, hit the cold water."

Groot gasped as the icy water hit, which let Rocket switch his wrist with the chew tube. Having something to bite eased one impulse, yet woke another.

He wailed and punched himself in the cheek while Quill heated the water again. Pain gave his brain something else to focus on besides the overpowering tingle. But punching his cheek wasn't enough. He hurled himself backwards, hoping to cause pain on a larger area of his body. Instead of a wall, his head collided solidly with Quill's crotch. Quill doubled over, both hands gripping his groin. Rocket snorted and swiped the soap bottle from his hand.

"Nice, Quill, _you_ hang onto his arms. I'll finish scrubbing."

"Ow," Quill squeaked.

Groot grabbed the door handle. His arm pushed right instead of pulling left. Frustrated, he banged his face into the metal door. Once he started he could not stop himself. Hands caught his shoulders and moved to block his fists from striking his jaw.

"C'mon, Groot, we're almost done showering you. Easy, man, easy," Quill's voice strained through clenched teeth, "Damn, I think you bruised my balls!"

"Deal with it later," snapped Rocket, "Pull him up on his feet. Don't stare at me like that! Groot's body ain't listening to his brain, now help him! Control his hands once he's up. Go!"

Groot felt himself being pushed into a standing position. He dropped the red chew tube. Everything was lights, noise, colors, touch and chaos. Rocket climbed each of his legs in turn to wash and rinse them. He did it quickly, yet gently, then handed the spray nozzle to Quill.

"Turn it on cold and lower the pressure. Spray his mouth. Don't let him hold it, he'll smash it into his own face."

Quill did it without question. Finally, something sensible again. Groot drank generously and turned his head to signal he was done. He bit his right wrist and punched himself in the chin with his left fist when Quill released him to hang the nozzle up without turning it off.

Every crunch and every blow created a rhythm of pain that brought order to chaos. Groot couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop.

"Hey! Groot, stop!"

A hand grabbed his swinging left arm. Another pried his wrist out of his mouth. Both arms were soon pinned behind his back. He could hear Quill's loud exhales echoing off the walls.

Rocket shook water off himself and frowned. "Should I get your inhaler?"

"No, I'm fine," Quill coughed, adjusting his grip on Groot's wrists, "This is why I wear Esonophite patches. The attack won't progress past feeling tight."

"It better not."

Rocket ascended Groot's leg to give him his chew tube again. Groot snatched it with his teeth and stamped the foot Rocket wasn't holding onto. Not being able to cause himself pain let the maddening tingle propagate throughout his nervous system like hybridized itch-agony. He could think of nothing else, and neither Rocket nor Quill had any idea of the misery he was in! His arms strained to begin throwing punches again.

"Damn! He's trying to get loose!" Quill coughed again.

"Yeah, I know. He's frustrated. Hey, Groot, we're gonna go out of the bathroom now. Ready?" Rocket hopped to the floor and dragged the door open, letting cooler air infiltrate the stuffy shower.

Groot felt Quill nudge him forward. Drax was mopping up the sewage mess. The ship smelled like...yes, there it was! That scent! That horrible, overpowering scent of bleach!

Gray hallways briefly overlaid his eyesight. Every nerve under his bark screamed. He thrashed, trying to escape Quill's tight grasp. The hands holding his wrists squeezed tighter.

"It's okay, Groot!" Quill sounded desperate, "It's okay!"

Drax pushed the septic tank panel back onto the wall. Groot immediately tried to rush over there. Quill's quick backwards yank stopped him. He shouted and collapsed to sit, dragging Quill with him. The chew tube slipped out of his mouth. Rocket hurriedly scooped it up and raised his voice over Groot's hollering.

"Get him to the medical scanner, Quill. He's way off his baseline. Something's going on and I need to make sure it's not pain first. He's not gonna let me poke him manually."

Rocket wiped his wet fur out of his eyes and hopped onto a stool by the red computer screen. Groot let Quill guide him into scanner range.

"Groot, you'll get your chew tube back as soon as we're done. We want to get your teeth in the scan, not the tube. You're not being punished, okay? I know you're trying to tell us something's wrong. We'll figure this out. Quill, move."

"He'll start-"

"I know, but the scanner's picking you up instead of Groot. Groot? Try to be still for a sec. I need to see if something's wrong inside your body. It's okay, Groot. I'm right here."

Groot tried his hardest not to bite himself while the scan ran. The noises of the scanner were awful high-pitched whines. He hissed and slapped his hips impatiently.

"How will torturing him with such noise help his situation?" Drax snapped. He could hear the scanner, too, if his twitching left eyelid was any indication.

"Because he can't tell us what's wrong right now, and if it's medical then fixing it will calm him down," said Rocket, "Remember the wrist abscess? Same thing, except..." He stopped to squint at the screen, "nothing on the scans indicate an infection. There's a ton of cortisol going to his brain right now. Something triggered him."

"Halfworld?" asked Quill.

"Mmhmm," came Rocket's stony reply.

Part of Groot's spirits momentarily lifted. Rocket was an amazing detective for figuring his issues out. He wouldn't know the specific cause until Groot could tell him, however he always knew how to advocate for and protect him- even when he needed protecting from himself.

"Can he tell us through the data pad?" asked Gamora.

"Let's try," Rocket said, "but I've seen this before, and if I'm right it's gonna be a long night. Groot's brain depends on all his neurotransmitters being balanced. Too much of any chemical can throw him off. Like right now- there's scared, and there's triggered. Scared is okay because the cortisol goes down again. Triggered is crap because the cortisol keeps flowing. His brain gets saturated and everything gets affected. Behavior, thinking, sensory- _everything_. That's why he's sensory seeking. His body is going 'wow, I'm really fucked up. I need something mushy to make endorphins flow!' Meanwhile, his brain is saying 'shit, I think I'm on fire! Body, what do I do?' and running in circles like a jackass instead of shutting off the cortisol. Don't ask me how Groot's body makes endorphins and cortisol because I have no idea."

Groot stamped his feet and groaned loudly. Full voice, open-mouthed. Stomping and vocalizing pushed his urges to hit himself into the floor instead. A temporary self-redirection, he wouldn't be able to keep it up forever.

A thump sounded when Gamora let her hands flop onto the table. She rubbed the inner corners of her eyes. Her fingers went to her temples next.

Quill shut the shower off and limped back into the kitchen area. Pain kept twisting his face. Nobody said anything to him about it.

"I can't imagine the suffering it must cause you, Rocket," Gamora said simply, "He attacks himself at least once a day...but it's not on this level."

Rocket huffed and rubbed his elbows, "I ain't suffering. Groot is. Yeah, it's hard to see him beat the crap out of himself. It's hard to see him in pain and know he can't say why. But hard as it is to watch, it's worse for him. Never forget that."

"I'm trying not to," she lowered her voice, though not low enough, "Is there any way to sedate him?"

"I'm beginning to wonder that, too, or maybe restraints," Quill added, but his voice sounded reluctant. He clearly felt guilty about the suggestion.

"Sedation and restraints might make it easier for _us_ , yeah, but it'll muck his brain chemistry up more. Try being stoned and triggered. I did, and it ain't fun. Restraints will stop him from hitting himself, but they won't un-trigger what upset him in the first place. Hell, restraints could set off more stress hormones and make him feel _worse_. I can't do that to him against his will, Quill. I can't. I won't."

The bleach smell filled Groot's senses. Someone touched his left arm. The Guna technician who gave horrible showers? He squeezed his eyes shut and opened his mouth to bite his right wrist. Whoever touched his arm wrenched his hand away at the last moment and pinned it firmly behind his back by holding his elbow. They repeated the action with his left arm. The strong grip didn't let him do anything beyond swinging his fists ineffectively at thin air.

"No. No, my friend."

It was Drax, not the Guna technician on Halfworld.

"Quill, get his chew tube," Rocket turned to the scanner next, "Hey, Drax! Bring Groot here and sit him down in the kitchen. We're gonna see if he'll talk to us."

Groot accepted the tube, though he almost bit Quill's hand to take it. Gnawing the rubbery substance lessened his terror. He spent a solid minute gnashing like he wanted to kill it. His annoying legs wouldn't respond unless someone else prompted him to move.

The bleach smell was strongest in the kitchen area because the air vents blew it towards him. Such a horrible odor. He blinked and the walls looked gray and featureless. Coldness settled into his chest. Then he was eased to sit and the _Milano's_ familiar interior reappeared.

Quill placed the purple data pad by his left hand.

"Here you go, Groot. There's your data pad. Can you talk to us?"

Groot's swirling thoughts refused to materialize into anything translatable. The patterns he relied on to spell lay veiled behind the agony-itch. He swiped his fingertip frantically across the digital keyboard, hoping something would congeal into sensible language. Random Xandarian letters appeared in the black text box. Nothing happened when he touched the green arrow. It wouldn't read.

Frustrated, he bolted from the table and clambered towards the wall Drax just cleaned.

"No!" Gamora got in his path, "Groot, no, that's dirty."

He knew that! He knew exactly how disgusting feces were to aliens, but his nervous system craved the texture.

With his sensory urge unsatisfied, he exploded into a flurry of fists and shrieking. Gamora practically dove at him. For the briefest second Groot swore her hands were yellow instead of green. Then she seized his right wrist while Drax took the left. They guided him to lie prone and hyper flexed his elbows.

"Shhh, it's going to be all right," Gamora whispered in his ear.

Groot's attention went to Rocket's voice.

"...gonna need major sensory interventions until we figure this out. There's no telling how long this'll last if he's not sick."

When did he join the hands and bodies and noises of breathing all around?

"Groot? Groot, hey," Rocket snapped his fingers, "hey, try and listen. Hey, I know you're triggered. You're pissed off that you can't tell me why. I hear you. I wrote another program for your data pad to help you talk to everybody. I just implemented it. See the screen? I narrowed it down to three things."

Rocket showed Groot his data pad. The screen contained a red circle with _NO_ inside it, a green square labeled _YES_ and a purple triangle containing _I DON'T KNOW_. All written in Kree, the first language he learned to read.

"I took your motor planning into account. It won't register a tap unless you keep your finger on something for more than ten seconds. You got it?" Rocket looked at Drax and nodded at him to let go.

Groot exhaled heavily. Fewer choices were less scary. The red circle drew his hand like a magnet. He touched red circle with his fist and slid his knuckles sideways the green square. After ten seconds, it lit up.

 **YES.**

Then he slapped the data pad away and tried to punch himself in the eye. Drax recaptured his wrist before the blow connected.

"I've got some Xandarian applesauce," Quill called from the other end of the kitchen.

"Great," said Rocket, "Let's give him some. The texture might calm him down. Groot? We're gonna sit you at the table again. Can I take your chew tube out of your mouth without you going nuts?"

Groot didn't have the wherewithal to resist Rocket gently pulling the chew tube away. Being readjusted into a sitting position irritated him. He wasn't hungry right now and he didn't want to look at that stupid data pad either, so he refused to set eyes on it when it got presented to him again.

"Data pad's a no-go," Rocket sighed, "Okay, the shapes were a stupid idea anyway. Here, this applesauce is nice and mushy. You're after mushy, right?"

The Xandarian applesauce looked neon green in its clear container. Rocket collected a spoonful and Groot automatically accepted the bite. An old, conditioned response from Halfworld. Refusing food there meant subsisting on disgusting vegetable pellets during behavior therapy sessions. Obeying earned him one pellet or one sip of water. Hardly enough to satisfy an empty stomach or parched throat.

He registered sweet applesauce on his tongue. Fruity softness, not a hard pellet. It was nice. It felt perfect. But he didn't want mushiness in his mouth, he wanted it on his body.

Groot spat the entire mouthful of applesauce onto his chin. Rocket, obviously thinking the spitting happened by accident, scraped the mush up with the spoon and tried to shovel it back in. Groot pressed his mouth shut tighter. The spoon didn't withdraw fast enough, so he slapped it out of Rocket's hand and backhanded the applesauce container so hard it sailed over Drax's head and landed squarely in the sink with a loud thwack.

Gamora jumped to her feet. Quill barely avoided wearing the neon green mush that splattered on the counter. Drax's eyes widened in shock. Rocket slowly looked between the sink and Groot.

It would have been hilarious in any other situation, but right then nobody laughed.

"Fine, here!" Rocket snapped, "Have this back."

Groot bit down on the chew tube again, glad he didn't have to eat the damn applesauce. He wiggled his fingers by his ears, yet no sensation replaced the one he desired and couldn't have.

"This isn't gonna work. Quill, stop digging for food. Groot doesn't want to eat right now."

"Soooo, what next?"

Groot rocked violently back and forth, his movements making water drip all over the floor. Moving gave his mind something to focus on besides how awful he felt. He wanted to shove his hands into the septic tank to stop the fire in his nerves!

"You said he was sensory seeking. His body is craving a specific sensation and nothing else will relieve it. The contents of the septic tank are similar to mud," Drax sat by Groot's left side, "Does this planet not have a vast wilderness abundant with mud?"

"How the hell would you know that about _shit?_ " asked Rocket, incredulous.

"Because I smeared feces as a child," Drax answered honestly, his voice low, "I did not speak until my ninth summer, so I could not explain to my mother why I dug in the waste pit or spread my feces on my body when I soiled myself. My mother tried everything to discourage it, and the only diversion that worked was digging me a mud pit to play with. I was much happier. It seems reasonable that Groot desires the same thing."

Groot slapped the tabletop several times and cooed to draw attention to Drax's statement. Yes, he wanted mud! He pounded the table again, ensuring they got the message.

"Groot," Gamora gently touched his wrist.

Echoes of yellow hands pinning his fists in place flashed through his mind. He growled and struck the table twice more to silence the memory.

Quill covered his face and groaned. He plopped to sit beside Gamora. "It's gonna take us awhile to get there. It's a heavily protected fly-zone. They don't want contrails interfering with the ecosystem and I don't want a huge fine."

The table in front of Groot briefly flickered to look like the stainless steel lab tables on Halfworld. He closed his eyes and turned away from it.

"We should do this anyway, regardless of the time it takes," Gamora laid her hand gently on Groot's back, "We owe it to Groot-" she paused when he looked her direction, "-you look after us all the time. Let us do the same."

"Yeah. I agree. He's the biggest selfless idiot ever, aren't ya, Groot?" Rocket's voice sounded haggard, like his whole body hurt, and Groot felt like crap for putting him through this during the double whammy of a hangover and pain flare. He sat up straight despite his misery and started talking.

"Okay, he's gonna go for that septic tank every chance he gets. He knows it's wrong, but his body is driving his brain instead of the other way around. A sensory binge with the mud he's looking for is gonna let his brain take control again. Getting to that mud could get real complicated real fast, so listen up.

"Somebody has to stay with him every second until we get to the habitat. I mean _every second_ , to stop him from hurting himself. He's frustrated right now and it's making him go nuclear on us. Groot can't calm himself down when he's triggered, so he needs us to help him until we figure out what set him off if we want it to stop.

"First thing's first, let's get him as far away from the septic tank as we can. That means the bunks. Second, this is really important, remind him he's not on Halfworld. He's having flashbacks just like I was earlier. Third, sensory interventions. We've gotta find something to keep him calm while we wait."

Drax caught Groot's left arm, stopping a punch. He spoke to him even though Rocket was giving all the answers.

"This is different from when you were ill, my friend. Why? Why do you harm yourself so drastically when you are not ill?"

Groot scrunched his face up and groaned.

"Because he was in pain that time. Different trigger," Rocket replied without sounding condescending for once.

"Groot remembers things by sensory associations. A bad experience and the sensory information he got when it happened get linked together in his head. That's why he's so damn scared of vacuum toilets- he had a bad experience with one.

"My triggers are random as hell. Groot's are specific and sensory-related. He thinks pain just 'happened' to him a lot on Halfworld because of those shock collars, so when he gets an abscess he thinks he's being zapped. You should see how bad he freaks out if you wrap anything metal around his neck."

"Get to the point, Rocket," Gamora hedged.

Rocket shot her a tired look, "My _point_ is something on this ship is matching a sensory association with Halfworld in his brain. He'll be able to tell us exactly what it is when we get his nerves to stop screaming at him. Betcha it's something easy to fix, too. I'm wracking my brain to guess, but I don't want to guess wrong, try to fix it and make things worse for him."

Groot exhaled heavily. Rocket didn't realize the issue centered on a smell. As excellent as he was at reading Groot, he couldn't read _everything_.

Quill finished zipping his pants and dragged his shirt on. Every action preceded a wince. He limped towards the flight deck stairs, his bare feet padding softly on the metal floor. Every footfall went through Groot like thunderclaps.

"That's it, then. I'll get the _Milano_ up in the air," he paused on the staircase, "Groot? We'll take care of you, buddy. Hang in there."

Drax piped up, "Quill, why are you limping?"

"Because Groot hit me in the groin when he flipped out."

"Say no more, I understand."

Groot felt an upward nudge from Gamora. It guided him to spit out his chew tube and stand up. He looked forlornly at the panel he wanted to rip off the wall again. Even though he knew it stunk, grossed his friends out and made a mess, he could not quell the desire. Before he knew it he turned fully towards the panel in question.

"Come on, let's hold hands like earlier," Gamora offered him her hand. He looked at it, but his arm wouldn't move in the right direction. As if his body would only listen to commands if they took it towards that damn smelly tank inside the wall.

Frustrated, he tried to bite his wrist instead and quiet the urge. Gamora quickly grasped his hand and moved it away from his teeth. She held his chew tube up. He gratefully grabbed its rubbery softness with his mouth. Her slow walk prompted his legs into motion to follow at her side.

The bunks had bars on them. Wait, no, that was memory, not real. He wasn't being forced into a small cage meant for somebody half his height, his friends were helping him sit on the floor.

Groot immediately banged his forehead against the nearest bunk. Moving so suddenly wrenched his hand free of Gamora's. He bit down on his chew tube and developed a rhythm of smashing his forehead into the bunk's edge and punching himself in the cheek and throat. White shocks of pain drowned out the colorless siege inside his nerves.

"No, my friend, you are safe. This is not Halfworld."

Muscular blue-gray arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him away from the bunk. The hands attached to those arms caught his wrists.

Echoes of a woman's voice speaking, _"quiet hands...good! Good job!"_ repeated in his mind.

Groot threw his head backwards. Drax shifted sideways, taking the blow with his shoulder.

Gamora knelt between him and the bunk he wanted to thrash himself against.

"It is all right," she glanced behind her at the bunk before shifting to sit cross-legged on the floor, "Would you like to hold hands some more?"

Drax guided Groot's hands towards Gamora's. Groot pulled his arms backwards against himself. No, he didn't want to hold hands. He wanted to dig in the septic tank.

"Guess not," said Rocket. "Hey, Sri Yantra coasters!" He filed through the pile like playing cards, holding each one up for Groot to see, "Heh, so that's what you were doing all day. Pilfering these."

The floor began to hum and vibrate. Groot tensed as the noise reached a crescendo.

"Ready for takeoff," Quill said over the intercom, "Is Groot secure?"

"Yeah," Rocket hopped down next to Gamora.

"Okay, then here we go."

Groot covered his ears and ground his teeth against his chew tube like his life depended on it. Then came the heavy-yet-weightless tilt of the _Milano_ making a gentle liftoff. Groot's body interpreted it as falling. Even though he could see he wasn't, the terror swallowed him before he could quell it. He spat out his chew tube, shouted and grabbed the shelf on his right. The fear behind his grab pulled it clean off the wall.

Angry, he pounded the corner of the shelf into his jaw. Two swift blows with all his strength. He heard a crack. Shocking pain lanced through the entire right half of his body. A third blow and he saw stars.

"No! No, Groot, don't do th-" Rocket snatched the pseudo-wooden object, "ah crap, he cracked his cheek open. He's _really_ gonna go nuts 'till that heals."

"He cannot help it," said Drax.

"How will we tend to- oh!"

Groot used the brief attention lapse to scramble away from the bunks. He bolted through memories of gray halls and bleach smells until he got his hands on the panel. Whoever put it back also placed electrical tape around the seams. His fingers lacked the fine motor coordination to peel it off.

"No! Shit, he's gonna- Groot!" yelled Rocket, "Stop!"

Panicked, Groot tried to smash through the panel. His fist left a sizeable dent that broke the tape around the seams, which let him pull the panel off again. Then he heard Drax approaching from behind and blindly threw the panel at him. Drax had to leap aside. Gamora sidestepped when it banged onto the floor beside her.

Somebody taped up the lid of the septic tank, too. Groot glared accusingly at Rocket, because Rocket was the only one who knew he couldn't peel tape off things.

"Yeah," Rocket answered as though Groot verbally spat out the accusation, "I told Drax to tape it because I knew you were gonna try. Sorry that you're mad, but I ain't sorry for protecting you. We're not on Halfworld. You're having flashbacks like I was earlier. It's okay. It's _okay_."

A lump welled in the back of Groot's throat. Deep in his heart of hearts he knew Rocket did it for his safety, yet in that moment it felt like a betrayal. His only source of relief was locked behind sticky paper.

His eyes rolled upward towards the ceiling. Despite Rocket's saying they weren't on Halfworld, he still saw recessed parabolic troffer lights instead of the _Milano's_ round ones.

 _"The baby vermin is smarter than that weed..."_

Groot slapped his ears to shut out the male voice in his memory. He ran at the stainless steel table and shoved everything off it. Quill's jacket and boots plopped on the grated floor. No, that was the kitchen table, not a lab table. An anguished snarl escaped him. Nothing felt real or right...nothing except pain.

He doubled forward, smashing his head into the table in a desperate attempt to make the unpleasantness stop. Something hurt. His cheek, because he remembered cracking it. He balled his fist and aimed a left hook at the source of pain.

Rocket vaulted onto the table and practically hugged Groot's forearm.

"Get him now," he said, "He won't attack me."

Groot clocked himself with his other fist. The fading pain renewed itself like flames relit by fresh fuel. Pain gave his nerves something else to feel besides an unmet sensory desire.

Gamora had the chew tube now. She took Groot's free hand and offered the tube to him. He accepted it because gritting his teeth on that felt better than grinding them against each other. Drax captured his shoulders and steered him towards the bunks. Groot wrestled a hand free to slap his head thrice more. Then Drax snatched his arm and yanked it down.

"No," he said firmly, "Harming yourself will not help you."

Groot growled around his chew tube. He tried breaking free by sitting on the floor, yet Drax and Gamora swung him back upright and kept guiding him to the bunks.

"This is exhausting," whispered Gamora, "It isn't his fault, yet it is exhausting. How did you cope before we met?"

"By avoiding his triggers," answered Rocket, "We did real good until tonight. He's still got some that I don't know about. Hopefully it's something we can switch out or get rid of."

The floor was still wet where Groot sat before. He decided he didn't want to sit and curled up on his side instead. Drax seated himself on the floor at the same time. Groot's head ended up resting on Drax's thigh. Drax sometimes wiped his hands on his pants when he ate or drank, so the cloth smelled vaguely like meat sauce. Not a bad odor, just different enough to be distracting.

Groot punched himself in the head until he felt a gentle hand rub the back of his neck. The very same spot Rocket taught everyone to pat when he got over-stimulated. All at once the incorrigible screaming in his nerves dulled to a bearable murmur. Even the pain he caused by slamming a shelf into his face wasn't so bad.

Three sets of hands moved when he grasped the loose ends of his chew tube. He wriggled until Drax's hand returned to massage his neck. That let him close his eyes and relax while he gnashed in contentment.

"You're triggering endorphins. Great. Perfect. Keep doing that," Rocket exhaled in relief and plopped to sit, "Okay, I think this is under control for now. See how fast a different neurotransmitter changes things?"

Groot wouldn't care if they threw him and Drax out an airlock as long as the neck massage didn't stop.

"Amazing," Gamora whispered.

"I was a father," said Drax, "The first action I took when Kamaria felt afraid was to rub her neck and comfort her."

Rocket scooted so close Groot felt his breath on his chin. Groot opened his eyes when he sensed Rocket's gaze on him. He returned the eye-contact and in that moment nobody else existed in the room.

"Me, too," Rocket responded like Groot spoke out loud. That was the gentlest his voice got.

Groot's sore jaw quivered because he felt awful for causing so much trouble. Rocket rubbed a zig-zag pattern across his forehead. Groot remembered him doing it to him with one finger when he was a sapling. He wanted to smile fondly at the memory. His mouth wouldn't comply.

"Hey, I don't need to be a mind-reader to see you hating yourself right now. It's not your fault, Groot. It's how you're wired, that's all," Rocket kept rubbing, "so you've got nothing to be sorry about," he wiped the brimming sap tears away and licked them off his fingers, "We're not going to Halfworld and we're all on your side. Okay? You got that?"

Groot moved his hand forward. Rocket grasped the tip of his index finger and made his honest face. Groot continued looking straight into Rocket's eyes because the love he sent out was being reflected back to him. He couldn't see it directly, but he felt it plain as day. Right then he needed that the most.

"Rocket?" Quill's voice crackled over the intercom, "Can you come up for a minute? I don't want to spook Groot if he's calm."

"Gimme a sec," Rocket answered. He bent over and brought their foreheads into contact. "I've gotta go for a minute, but I'll be right back. Gamora's gonna hold your hand while I'm gone. You gonna be okay, Groot?"

Groot closed his eyes again. Rocket passed his hand to Gamora and withdrew. Gamora shifted to occupy the space Rocket vacated and rubbed his hand between both of hers.

"He cares so deeply for you," she remarked, a smile evident in her voice.

Groot exhaled noisily in reply. Drax kept gently massaging his neck using regular, circular motions.

"Hovat was as closely connected to me as Rocket is to you. Groot, my friend, would you like to hear a story?"

Groot took the chew tube out of his mouth long enough click his teeth twice.

Drax remained silent for a few seconds, a brief period indicating he was mentally 'writing' his thoughts in preparation to 'read' them aloud. This ability made him an amazing storyteller.

"All right, ready," he inhaled through his nose, "I met Hovat during my nineteenth summer. She sold fruit in the marketplace and our meeting happened when a wheel on her cart tilted askew, causing her to spill her merchandise on the ground. She bumped into me while struggling to right it.

"I wouldn't be a well-mannered man if I left her to struggle. I was the only person present who was physically strong enough to re-align the wheel, so I did. Everyone around us stared at me like I was an imbecile."

"Why?" asked Gamora, her voice breaking the flow of the story.

"Uh...I will explain through the story." The interruption threw Drax off. The fingers massaging Groot's neck fluttered in a swift ripple pattern and settled once again into regular circles. He spent a moment recollecting his thoughts before continuing.

"I had acquired a reputation for being all muscle and no thought. Unlike Groot, I was an oddity among my people, and in my youth I once trounced a group of my peers after they ambushed me. I did not fight back the first time because I did not know how, and I went home a bloodied, bruised mess. My father found that unacceptable and taught me how to fight. I have excellent mimicry skills, so learning to fight was easy for me. I became quite skilled in a short period of time.

"The second ambush went much differently, and it is the one people remembered when they heard my name. The fight became something of a legend because I sent those boys fleeing with blood on their faces. Me, a single person, against six others. It was not surprising Hovat knew about it. My reputation as Drax the Destroyer began with that fight."

Drax paused both the massage and his story to adjust his positioning. Groot frowned impatiently until both resumed.

"Hovat chose not to believe anything anyone said about my intelligence. She spoke to me, and I spoke back. We talked about blacksmithing and fruit- and I had my first true conversation. It went on while I helped her reload the cart and wheel it to her marketplace stall. I found it difficult to take my eyes off the way her black hair reflected the sunlight. She had it tied up into a bun because of the summer heat..."

Groot squeezed Gamora's hand when he sensed the fondness in Drax's voice.

"...and she did not belittle me for speaking exactly what I thought. No, Hovat liked that I was honest in my words and intentions. So I began to make daily visits to her marketplace stall. I bought a piece of fruit and ate it while we talked. I could tell her _anything_ , and she never once mocked me if I spoke incorrectly due to social ignorance.

"Hovat invited me to visit her home on more than one occasion. She came from a large family and I found it difficult to talk to anyone else in her household- they did not converse much about the subjects I have the most knowledge about. She knew how to bring conversations towards those subjects and allow me to reveal that, yes, I am quite intelligent."

"She sounds like she was lovely," whispered Gamora. She put light downward pressure on Groot's hands to stop him from picking at his cracked cheek.

"Yes," Drax's voice never sounded warmer.

Groot turned his head to look at him via his peripheral vision. Drax stared off into space, his eyes glazed with memory.

"Would you like me to continue, my friend?"

A soft grunt from Groot answered the affirmative. At that, Drax resumed both the neck massage and his story.

"Visiting Hovat became as routine as breathing to me. I felt incomplete and irritable if I could not go. She was the one person I enjoyed being around as much as I did my parents, yet it was different. I experienced a joy I could not name, and I craved the sight of her smile and the sound of her voice much like you, Groot, crave the softness of mud right now.

"And three winters after I met Hovat, I awakened in the middle of the night with a startling realization. Those feelings I had- the odd sensation in my stomach, the happiness of being in her presence and the strange urge to weep that only happened around her- I realized-" Drax laughed, "-I realized I was in _love!_ "

Now Gamora laughed as well, "So what did you do?"

Groot hummed softly, pushing his head against Drax's thigh to make him go on. Now the story was getting good!

Drax placed his other hand on Groot's shoulder. He continued weaving his tale while Groot's mind conjured up everything like a holo-drama.

"I climbed out my window in my bedclothes and ran through the snow. I was so overcome with emotion that I did not notice the cold immediately. All I could do was run and laugh. The sun was rising when I arrived at Hovat's home.

"I never considered the hour when I tapped on her door until she opened it. Ah, she was bedraggled the way anyone is when being awakened from sleep too early, however in that instant she never looked more beautiful to me. I did not give her a chance to ask me why I was there. I looked into her eyes and blurted out my exact thought, 'Hovat, I am in love with you and I want to marry you.'

"Many people recoiled from my honesty, but Hovat did not. She dragged me into the house and kissed me...heh-heh! We joined in matrimony the following summer. Our daughter, Kamaria, was born just after spring arrived. Fatherhood came naturally to me. And Hovat never tired of telling people how I sprinted all night through the snow to confess my love and propose to her all in the same breath."

"And I thought Groot was sappy," Rocket said as he rejoined them, "You seriously ran all night to tell some broad you loved her?"

"Yes," Drax's voice gained a defensive edge, "And I do not regret it."

" _I_ think it was sweet," Gamora leaned forward slightly, no doubt cutting off whatever retort Rocket loaded into his verbal arsenal, "You must miss them."

"Every breath without them is one too many," Drax muttered, "So, what did Quill request your presence for?"

"We're going around a storm. It's pretty nasty. The inertial dampeners should stop us from feeling the turbulence. We're trying, Groot, but it's gonna take a little longer than we thought," Rocket directed his voice to Groot, "Keep hanging in there."

Groot rumbled wordlessly.

Drax said, "My leg is going numb. Gamora, please take my place."

The lapse in the neck massage let the screaming in Groot's nerves return full-volume. Every signal moved his arm against his will. He slapped himself on the hip. It was that or uppercut his own chin. Hip slapping did less damage.

"I know, I know, shhh," Gamora rubbed Groot's shoulder.

Drax stood up to shake the feeling back into his leg while she slid into the space he was using. She sat with both legs stretched out in front of her and guided Groot's head to rest in her lap. Her smaller hand applied more concentrated pressure to the back of his neck.

The noise of Groot's nerves dulled once more. He looked straight ahead upon hearing Rocket come close again. Drax edged aside to give him more room.

Rocket checked the crack in Groot's cheek by pressing on it. Groot tensed his shoulders to tell him it still hurt a little. Gamora moved to block his hands in case his fists flew, but he resettled and she kept massaging his neck.

"Gotcha, okay, I'll leave your cheek alone," Rocket grabbed Groot's index finger and examined his wrist since that was the wrist he bit earlier, "Your wrist looks good," he patted it, "No exposed cambium."

Gamora heaved a sigh and let her head rest against the wall behind her. Unlike Rocket and Drax, she was not so adept at masking her lack of sleep.

"Groot, you remind me of the trees I climbed as a child," she looked down at him, "I climbed the highest and the fastest. When I was very young, I believed climbing the highest tree would let me touch the sky. I was undoubtedly the bane of my parents' existences when I laid eyes on any tall tree.

"I imagine my child self would be right at home on your home planet," she directed her voice at him when she spoke, "Will you tell me about your planet when you're feeling well again?"

Groot shifted so his head laid more comfortably in the hollow of her lap without giving a response. His ears detected the distant rumble of thunder. Instinctual fear rippled through him. Normally, he could rationalize that he was safe inside the _Milano_. Right now, his nerves were too shot.

He sat up abruptly and smashed the side of his head against the bunk on his left. His right hand pounded his jaw. Two crunches in a heartbeat rhythm. It happened so fast he didn't realize his own actions until the pain struck.

"Oh! Groot, no!" Gamora wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him towards her.

"Crap, he heard thunder," Rocket jumped to his feet, "Hope that doesn't keep happening."

Groot shouted and bashed his fist into his undamaged cheek. The blow lacked any strength because of the awkward angle Gamora had him in. He twisted his body in Gamora's arms. She situated her forearm between his face and his fist. All his attempts to hit himself nailed her arm instead.

"Drax, you need to- where the hell did you wander off to? Drax!" snarled Rocket.

Footfalls raced across the floor.

"I was retrieving food and water for everyone," said Drax. He set down the containers of salad leftover from the day before and placed his hand between Gamora's arm and Groot's fist.

Groot recognized the containers because of their green lids. He made that salad all by himself with aid from the prompts program on his data pad. Everyone said they liked it.

"Groot's terrified of thunder and lightning," Rocket practically sat on Groot's left arm to keep it still and finally managed to pin the right one against his chest. "Groot? Groot. Hey, listen- lightning can't get us here. I know your body is reacting without your brain, but I also know you don't quit understanding what I'm saying when you're like this. Everything's okay. So, how about some food. Are you hungry?"

Rather than respond, Groot squirmed in attempt to continue pounding his head.

"I'm gonna see if he wants any of this," Rocket tightened his grip, "Drax, pin his arms. Gamora, keep massaging his neck. That's what's working so let's keep it up. He might freak out if either of you try to give this to him. His behavior therapists were a man and a woman."

The ship banked gently to the right.

Groot eyed the five water glasses and five square containers of food. Seeing them prompted thirst and hunger, but the uncomfortable sensations sent his fists flying into his head again.

He felt Gamora assist him into a sitting position. For the briefest second he heard a male voice spit out, _"Sit up straight, you stupid plant!"_ before the shuffling of people moving drowned it out.

Drax's hands applied firm pressure to Groot's wrists while pinning them behind his back. Gamora rose onto her knees and used both hands to massage the vine fibers making up his neck. Rocket jiggled the chew tube out of his clenched jaws and moved the water glass close to his face.

"Thirsty, Groot?"

Groot unclenched his teeth, which told Rocket to tip the glass to his lips. He gulped every drop like a drowning person gulped for air.

Sometimes, Rocket contradicted himself without realizing it. Groot recalled him saying a small child wasn't cool for getting help, yet he assisted Groot all the time.

 _"It's not help when it's you,"_ he'd explained, _"You need different things and I take care of it. That's all it is."_

Groot bit down on the rim of the glass to keep it close to his mouth.

"That's it. You drank it all," Rocket tilted the glass higher so Groot felt its emptiness and only then could it be set aside. He popped the lid off a food container, speared some red Krylorian lettuce on the three-pronged fork and placed it near Groot's nose to let him smell it, "You hungry?"

Yes, definitely. Groot dipped his head to accept the forkful of food, chewed frantically and swallowed without tasting it before opening his mouth to groan for more. His brain knew there was salad there, yet his eyes saw an empty gray bowl next to metal bars.

The next bite didn't come immediately. He flicked his tongue back and forth, searching for another morsel. When he couldn't find any, he groaned louder and squirmed.

"Easy," Drax tugged him backwards.

"Hey, hey, nobody's taking this away," Rocket gave him another bite before taking one himself from his own container. He used the same fork for both. "We're not in that shithole, Groot. You can eat and drink as much as you want. It's okay. You can have my water if you want more water after you eat."

Groot rolled the lettuce around in his mouth. Gamora massaged his neck harder while he chewed. Crunchy Krylorian lettuce had a neutral taste by itself, but paired with salty dressing and sweet Xandarian apple strips? It became a delight on his taste buds.

Drax applied more pressure to his wrists. Gamora sped up her massaging. Quill radioed to ask how he was doing. Rocket gave him another bite.

Warmth encapsulated Groot's heart. He sensed how much his friends- his Forest- cared about him. Society might have judged them misfits and criminals based on their recently-expunged arrest records, yet knowing each individual personally proved they were more than their behavior. Just like him.

"Good choice of snack," Rocket told Drax, "Xandarian apples were the first thing Groot ate after Halfworld. He associates those with being free. Right, Groot?"

Groot managed a smile as he accepted the next bite. He ate more slowly now that he knew nobody would whisk the food away. Eating at a leisure pace let him fully enjoy the sensory experiences of taste, texture and smell. The pleasure of it briefly blotted out the noise flowing through his nerves.

Rocket gently fed him everything inside that container and, like promised, let him drink his water too. Afterward, he wiped the smeared dressing off Groot's mouth, licked it off his hand and put the lid back on the empty container. He gave Groot his chew tube again as he set the container aside.

"Okay, you guys eat. I'll take over massaging."

Everyone shifted positions. Groot's head completely covered Rocket's tiny legs. But Rocket's small hands could squeeze individual vine fibers in ways Drax and Gamora couldn't. He also hadn't put his shirt back on, so Groot felt his coarse fur and smelled his familiar leather-and-metal scent.

Rocket leaned over to rest his furry cheek against the side of Groot's head.

"There's no bars here," he whispered to him, "No Rav, no Peth, no Jormin, no shock collars, no restraints, no 'quiet hands', no scrubbing your bark off in the shower. None of that shit. We ain't on Halfworld, Groot."

And Groot thrummed softly, acknowledging. Nothing compared to the comfort of having his best friend at his back.

Quill's voice crackled over the intercom, "We're heading for a landing. We're gonna get run over by the thunderstorm I just flew us around, so we'll have to wait for it to pass. The good news is there's going to be plenty of mud for Groot. How's he doing?"

"Copy that," answered Rocket, "He's calm right now. We got him to eat and drink, so we don't have to worry about that for awhile. The thunder might scare him if it gets close. I hope to hell it doesn't hail."

"Don't think so, weather radar doesn't show hail. Awesome. This might be bumpy. If Groot freaked out at takeoff then get ready in case he freaks out for landing."

As it turned out, the descent didn't cause any disorientation. Groot only startled a little at the bump of landing. Drax blocked his two attempts to strike himself in the face.

The engines whirred to silence, leaving only the soothing sound of rain. Groot was smiling by the time Quill descended the flight deck stairs.

"Hey, save any for me?"

"Here," Drax tapped a container with his fork.

Groot shut his eyes to cancel out the random movements and gnawed the chew tube. He enjoyed the quiet crunches of his friends eating the salad he made while Rocket continued massaging his neck.

"Man, he's really mellowed out," Quill whispered.

Rocket snorted derisively, "You missed the show earlier. He won't be this mellow if I stop massaging his neck. This's literally the only thing that's working right now. By the way, you're gonna need a new panel in the wall. Good news is the tape worked. You didn't lose the septic tank too."

"Eh," Quill chomped on a mouthful of lettuce, "could be worse."

Drax sipped from his water glass. The pause in conversation stretched, so he asked, dead serious, "Would Groot be giving a shit or taking a shit if he managed to reopen the septic tank?"

Gamora covered her mouth to avoid spitting out her food. Rocket smacked the floor and guffawed. Quill coughed until he could swallow and laugh. Groot bore his teeth in a big, silly grin. Did Drax really ask that?

"I think- both," Quill sucked dressing off the side of his hand, "Oh, man, Drax, seriously?"

Groot opened his eyes in time to see Drax look around in confusion. He reached out and slapped his knee. Drax glanced at him, turned his head and chuckled.

"What? I'm trying to understand the metaphor."

"'Give a shit' means you care. 'Take a shit' means defecation," Gamora calmly explained.

Everyone stared at her. She stared back, sighed and gave her hair a little flick.

"What? I can swear as well as anyone else. I simply choose not to. Not having a foul mouth does wonders for my breath."

Groot emitted a long snort around his chew tube. This time, Gamora completely and utterly _lost it_. She covered her mouth and doubled over until she regained control of herself.

"Heh, guess Gams isn't as uptight as we thought," Rocket said causally while Groot settled down again.

She shot him a look, "I have a sensible sense of humor, unlike the rest of you _children_."

Rocket lapsed in his massaging to scratch himself behind the ear. Groot caught a whiff of the bleach smell. His nerves lit up with unpleasantness like fiber optic lights. Flashes of yellow hands, gray walls and bars haunted his eyesight. He curled himself into a fetal position and beat the side of his leg with his fist. It was the only self-redirection he could manage.

"Fine, fine! Okay!" Rocket's hand returned and started massaging again, "See, Quill? Can't stop for a second."

Groot stopped punching his leg. He reached blindly and grasped the first hand he touched. The hand scooted forward to let him grip it better.

"We're waiting for the storm to pass," said Quill. He squeezed Groot's hand when thunder rumbled, "So what's the sickest you've been? Was the abscess incident it?"

"Nah, seen worse," Rocket jiggled a vine fiber, "Groot, can I talk about it?"

Groot grunted a vague affirmative. The thunder wasn't horrible when his friends surrounded him. They were keeping him safe.

"The most sick I ever saw Groot get was right after we escaped Halfworld. He was _sick_...couldn't move except to beat himself senseless, couldn't make a noise except to scream. Hell, he could barely open his eyes. There were abscesses in both his wrists, and I didn't know it because he didn't know how to tell me yet. He got as sick as he did because they ruptured. You think he was in a lot of pain with an intact abscess? You ain't seen nothing till you've seen him with two ruptured ones.

"So anyway, I had him hidden behind a dumpster in an alley on Xandar. We were still afraid of assholes from Halfworld hunting us down. But Groot beat the hell out of himself. You couldn't recognize his face, and I didn't know how to make him stop.

"Eventually he got too weak to move. I thought he was gonna die- either from the illness or from beating himself. He couldn't eat anything because he couldn't chew and he wasn't getting enough sun. I watched him get weaker and weaker. The injuries he caused himself didn't heal. Then he stopped moving completely, like he was waiting to die. He told me later that the pain got to be too much.

"So, anyway, I got desperate. I dug out the food people dumped into the dumpster, chewed it up and spit it into Groot's mouth so he didn't have to chew it himself. Gross as hell, but it worked because he could still swallow. I gave him water that way, too. That's how I kept him alive for the four days it took his arms to die and fall off."

Rocket never once broke the rhythm of the massage while he talked, "I dissected the dead arms to find out what happened and found the ruptured abscess. Stunk like hell. Then I got to watch Groot grow new arms and get better. The end!"

But Rocket didn't mention the tears he shed while begging Groot not to die. He left out the hours he spent sitting on Groot's arms in a vain attempt to stop the vicious self-abuse. He left out the fact that feeding Groot the way he did saved his life by giving his body the nutrients to fight the infection. And he kept quiet about all the wounds he taped shut after Groot hurt himself enough to bleed sap everywhere.

 _"Don't die. Not now, not after everything we went through. You're the only good part of my life and I can't lose you. I can't lose you, Groot. Stay with me...damn it. I'll do anything..."_

Of course, Rocket told Groot he dreamed that litany of tears and pleading. Because Rocket was Rocket and he didn't like admitting to sentiment even when he showed it plain as day.

"Wow, guess you've been through the ringer, Groot," Quill cleared his throat, "How about I take over?"

"Yeah, I gotta piss anyway. Move fast or he'll start punching."

The massaging stopped. Groot grimaced behind the chew tube. Quill held onto his hand while he took Rocket's place. He didn't let go until he picked up the careful massaging motions. He did it the fastest.

"There we go. Niiice. Groot, you didn't punch. Gimme five for that."

Groot held up his hand to let Quill slap their palms together.

Rocket chuckled and zipped away to use the bathroom. Gamora and Drax cleaned up the food dishes and water glasses.

"Wish I could read your mind," Quill said quietly, almost to himself, "If it's anything I did...sorry. I mean that. I'm not mad about the panel and I'm not mad that you hit me in the nuts earlier. That was totally an accident. Right now all that matters is you feeling better."

Groot chewed slower on the tube as he processed Quill's sincere words. He closed his eyes when Quill switched from using his right hand to his left to give the neck massage.

"Here, lemme give you some love from my mom, okay? Pick your head up a little. Yeah, that's it."

There was a swish, and Groot felt the foamy softness of Quill's earphones sliding onto his head. Quill adjusted them to lay right on the tiny slits denoting his ears. A click soon followed, and music about mountains not being high enough, one more chance and numerous other things chased the quiet away.

Rocket padded back to the bunks with a soapy scent clinging to his hands. Drax sat on the floor near Groot's feet. Gamora retrieved the rainbow top she bought earlier. She flashed Groot a little smile upon sitting down and cranking the handle.

Groot hardly flinched at the rumble of thunder because Quill's music, the neck massage, chewing on his vaguely sweet chew tube, the fruity smell of soap, the spinning top and the love his friends were showing held his full attention.

.o

Scents of rain permeated the dimness. The rainbow top wobbled to a stop and the music went silent. Groot spat out his chew tube. He lifted his head. Quill slid the earphones off him.

Rocket's voice called out, "I just saw his head pop up. You smell that rain, don't you? Hey, idiot, let's go!"

It took a moment for Groot to remember how to sit upright. Drax assisted him into a standing position while Gamora remained close in case his fists went flying. Quill set his music device aside and joined Rocket by the airlock.

They ventured outside in unison, each making sure Groot managed the steps safely. He paused a moment when his feet contacted the grassy mud for the first time. His gaze zeroed in on the shimmers of raindrops zipping past the light shining from the _Milano's_ open airlock.

Groot's eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness. He saw as clearly as if a full moon glowed overhead.

Two steps forward and the rain peppered him. He became the night sky and the falling droplets were his starry coat of ever-changing constellations. Wind gusted from the southwest. He heard where the raindrops splashing on a nearby pond. Knowing what he sought lay mere feet away, he turned towards it and _ran_.

"There he goes!" Rocket exclaimed.

Mud squished under Groot's feet with every running step. The watery smell drew him like a magnet. He dropped to his knees at its edge and thrust his hands into the wet softness. Endorphins flooded his body and washed away the chaos. The screaming in his nerves subsided. Every atom comprising his being slowed to a less energized state. He threw his head back, eyes closed and mouth open, utterly consumed by the sensual ecstasy of _being_.

Gray walls, yellow hands, angry voices and fear faded back into the spiraling recesses of his memory. Like an ocean after a storm, his mind regained its calm. Reality made sense again.

He sighed and sagged forward, glad to have equilibrium once more.

Footsteps approached. Drax joined him at the pond's edge and wiggled his toes in the mud. He brought a halogen lantern with him. The light cast a pale white glow on the pond.

"May I join you, my friend?"

Groot shrugged because why should he deprive Drax of the same sensory experience? He contentedly wiped the mud all over his chest, arms and thighs. One handful went on the back of his neck where everybody gave him massages earlier. Then he sat with his legs splayed in front of him and happily kneaded the wet soil like dough.

Drax eased to sit cross-legged, unbothered by his pants getting dirty. Groot couldn't resist. He reached over and left a muddy handprint atop Drax's bald head.

Drax chuckled as he gathered a pile of mud and formed it into a ball, "This is what I did as a child."

He held the mud ball aloft and dropped it. The impact sounded similar to flatulence. Groot tried the same thing. It was funnier the second time.

"I am _Groot!_ " he guffawed. Finally, his mouth obeyed him!

"Is he talkin' again?" Rocket called.

"Yes," answered Drax, his amusement evident in his voice, "All three syllables."

Before long, Groot noticed Gamora, Rocket and Quill standing by the pond's edge. They did not sit down like Drax did.

Rocket asked the important question, "So, Groot, what happened?"

Drax swished his hands in the water to rinse them clean. Groot shifted uneasily while pushing his hands as far as he could into the mud. The squishy pressure gave him the courage to answer.

" **I** am _Groot_ ," he said, hunching his shoulders, embarrassed. All this chaos for that simple answer.

Rain pattered on the sodden ground. The silence stretched on.

But Rocket didn't call names or start swearing in anger. He rarely did when it came to triggers.

"What'd he say?" asked Quill.

"Bleach," Rocket translated, looking up, "The whole ship smells like the same bleach they cleaned rooms with on Halfworld. Then Drax made it stronger when he mopped up the sewage. Told ya it was something simple and easy to fix. Tch, I wracked my brain and I didn't think about scents."

He turned his attention towards Groot again, "We can fix that."

"Very easily," Gamora added, folding her arms, "There are many cleaning agents that don't contain bleach."

"Yeah, but the whole ship smells like it because they deep cleaned the ventilation system with it back in the city. It's in the stuff I use to mop up nasty spills, too," Quill closed his eyes and slapped his forehead, "Shit, Groot, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Groot hung his head. He sighed heavily. His turmoil derailed everyone's evening and he felt awful that he couldn't step back into the ship. Not when memories assaulted him with every breath.

"I _AM_ Groot."

"Nobody's gonna make you get back in the ship if it triggers you, Groot. We'll figure something out to get rid of the smell," Rocket crinkled his snout, "Because I don't want you bashing your thick head into walls any more than you already do on a normal day."

Drax snapped his fingers. "I may be able to help with that." To Groot, he said, "I will need some of your flowers. The process will take some time, so you may wish to remain out here until it is complete."

A bright smile lit Groot's face, "I _am_ **Groot?** "

Rocket helpfully translated, "He wants to know what kind of flowers you want."

"Anything fragrant," Drax said with an answering smile, "Give me your favorite scented flowers and I will erase the bleach scent from the ship."

Wind whistled around the _Milano's_ curved edges.

Groot cupped his hands and grew an abundance of lavender blossoms. Then he held them towards Drax while rocking excitedly back and forth. He liked the idea of the ship smelling like flowers!

Abruptly, he paused to cast Quill a questioning look. He'd forgotten about the pollen.

"Whoa," Quill held his hands palms-out, "I'm wearing an Esonophite patch, remember? I'll be fine."

At that, Groot let Drax pick the lavender off his palms. Once Drax gathered it all, he stood up and wiped his bare feet clean in the grass before stepping up into the ship.

The rain began to fall harder again. Quill scooted back to stand in the airlock.

Groot glanced at Rocket, "I am Groot."

Rocket twitched his tail, "Okay. I'll get it."

Groot rinsed his hands in the pond, got up and beckoned for Gamora to follow. She didn't appear keen on sloshing in the mud. He led her to a thicker grass patch under the _Milano's_ right wing. This also served to keep the rain off.

"Here you go, catch."

Of course Rocket would throw the damn thing. It wasn't exactly fragile- it survived being dropped, submerged in water and stepped on.

And Groot naturally missed the catch, so he scooped the device up and wiped the mud off.

 **You asks about my planets. Does you wants to hears about it now?**

"Oh..." Gamora seemed surprised he remembered, "Yes. Tell me about your world."

He smiled, ducking his head. Spelling out his description took a long while because his fingertip wasn't cooperating too well. And slowly, one by one, his memories of home emerged.

 **My homes was a planets of mountains, valleys, oceans, islands, forests, jungles, waterfalls, caves and cliffs. There was no deserts. I doesn't knows what a deserts was until Rocket shows me one. I doesn't likes them, they are too dry.**

 **Mornings on my planets always has mists obscures the trees canopy so the sunbeams makes whites lines everywhere. You could tells what seasons it was by which ways they tilts. Then the sky clears late in the mornings because the winds changes directions and you sees the blues or grays sky between leaf on the trees canopy above. There was lots of colors and beautiful things to sees. You could spends hours looks at how very big and very small things looks likes each other- that is why I likes fractals and mandalas.**

 **The airs smells likes trees, flowers, oceans and rivers. Rains that comes from over the oceans always smells likes salts and rains that comes from over the mountains doesn't smells likes salts. The ways to tells where the rains will comes from is the smells and the winds directions.**

 **The grounds was always soft where saplings grows and there was always moss on rocks to runs your hands over. Waterfalls was places where lots of people likes to gathers.**

 **There was sweets, sours, salts and bitters fruits to eats everywhere you turns and you never has to walks far to finds a streams to drinks from. If you follows streams you can finds the rivers they comes from. If you follows against the rivers flows you can always finds the waterfalls that makes mists and if you follows the flows you finds oceans!**

 **The forests I lives in was hot in summers and got frosts in winters. I could finds the oceans if I follows the big rivers for a longs times and it would sparkles when I got there in late afternoons. Sunsets always looks pretty if there was storms clouds to changes colors. I uses to sits and looks at shells while I waits for sunsets.**

 **And nights was the most beautiful because...**

Groot paused to extend his hand and release his glowing golden spores. They swirled and blew away quickly in the wind. Gamora caught one and looked closely at it in her hand. Its soft gold glow gently illuminated her green face. A nod from her prompted him to keep typing.

 **...Flora Colossi lets out spores at nights to tells people they are there. Forests always glows gold. We knows if a storms is comes by where they blows to and how fasts.**

 **Springs is when we gets storms with floods. We gets tornado or hurricanes too. Tornado makes big mess but they goes by fasts! Hurricanes makes mess too if they gets inlands because they has lots of winds and rains and sometimes they moves very slows. I remembers ones times there was a tornado at nights and we finds it by the roars and sees the spores starts to spins very fasts! We was able to protects the saplings in times because of that.**

 **I can survives any weathers but lightning strikes. Lightning strikes can makes me gets dead. Saplings was vulnerable to floods and strong winds because their roots doesn't goes deeps likes adults does. Sometimes we uproots them and moves them to replants somewhere more highs if there will be floods. It is a rights of passages if they lives in valleys haha! I was a valleys saplings so I remembers when it was my turns.**

 **There was animals on my planets too. Small furry ones a lots likes Rocket. He reminds me of them. They uses to runs around and prunes us or eats bad bugs off us. There was also lots of butterfly, birds and fish in all the colors you can thinks of. I learns very early that I can swims in waters with fish but fish can't gets out of the waters.**

Groot saw the faraway look in Gamora's eyes. She was envisioning it. Probably not the same picture as he carried in his memory.

"And are all of your people like you? As in...would they behave as you did earlier?"

He could tell by her hesitant tone that she tried to word her question as inoffensively as possible. It brought a smile to his face. What a joy it was to be _heard_.

"I am _Groot_ ," Groot rocked his weight from foot to foot while preparing his reply.

 **Everybody on my planets was unique. Everybody who talks says 'I am Groot' because neurology and a stiffs woods larynx doesn't lets us says anything else. 'We are' is rare but I can says it. 'I am Groot' is specials to each person. Rocket understands me because he knows me. He would not understands another Flora Colossus. Two Flora Colossi can connects taproots to communicates ideas with chemicals signals. You sees these roots comes out when I sleeps and I uses ones to wipes Rocket's tears away on the Dark Aster.**

 **Some Flora Colossi doesn't has motors plans issues and are vocals a lots, some of us never says 'I am Groot' and lots more likes me was a mix somewhere in between. There was Flora Colossi who can't stands to be touch and some who always seeks it. There was Flora Colossi who only communicates by yells and waves branch around and they was as important as the Flora Colossi who could runs for days. There was Flora Colossi who never uproots from where they germinates- we calls them No-Walkies- and they needs the most helps so the Walkies takes cares of them.**

 **I doesn't looks disables at all on my planets because the environments is rights for my brains. I has keens eyes to sees small movements that lets me sees which ways the clouds are goes or sees dangers from far away. I has acute ears so I can picks up thunders or rumbles of a floods easy. I has strong senses of touch to feels the most slights winds and knows what directions it blows. I memorizes the winds patterns of all the planets I visits. I smells things real goods because my nose is makes to smells rains and foods and communications of other Flora Colossi. I can tastes lots of things with tiny bites because tastes tells me if something is not safes to eats. Usual things that tastes spices are poisons to Flora Colossi so we all has aversions to spices flavors even if they are safes to eats.**

 **You doesn't sees Flora Colossi has fits for no reasons on our homes planets. We doesn't all hurts ourselves likes I does. Fits lets us fights or runs from dangers but if I has nothing to fights or runs from I try to fights what feels bad and when I am over-stimulates my body feels bad. That is why I bites and punch and thrash myself. I can't controls it.**

 **No-Walkies would warns of storms by has fits. If they was in dangers sometimes whole groups would uproots them and carry them to a safes places to gets replants even though it means a big fits. They has fits because they are takes out of the soils that apply pressures to their legs and nothing makes any senses to them until they are waists deeps in soils again. They understands they are being moves to gets safes and they can't helps their reactions. They could survives and learns to walks if they was forces to but with lots of suffers. I am glad I was takes alive on Halfworld instead of a No-Walkies.**

 **No-Walkies was also very good for teach saplings so we uses to always makes sure some was plants closes to them. They uses their taproots to communicates with saplings from the moments they germinates until their firsts taproots falls off and they becomes Walkies. Clusters of Flora Colossi who lives together becomes a Forests...or family.**

 **Walkies who grows up near a No-Walkies stays to takes cares of them and the No-Walkies keeps teach them about things. Everybody has a purposes on my planets and everybody takes cares of everybody.**

 **...I miss my homes.**

The last words appeared almost of their own will. Groot hardly realized he typed them until the data pad highlighted and spoke them aloud.

Gamora lightly touched his shoulder where he hadn't smeared mud. A gesture of sympathy. Groot silently appreciated it and tried to turn his lamentation into something more positive.

 **I doesn't knows if my homes planets is intact, but Quill says homes is where the hearts is and my hearts belongs to Rocket. I trusts who he trusts and I knows I always has a homes because I has very goods friends who takes cares of me. You are my Forests now. That is what I means when I says 'we are Groot' with my mouths.**

Groot took his finger off the data pad and flashed Gamora his brightest smile. He opened his arms for a hug, forgetting about the mud he smeared on himself.

Gamora went for it anyway. Unlike Rocket, she still wasn't wholly accustomed to affectionate gestures directed specifically at her. But Groot hoped to change that. Even if it happened one hug at a time.

"Your planet sounds beautiful," Gamora's whisper almost blended with the wind, "It must be if people like you come from it."

He thrummed softly to express gratefulness. Knowing she could say that after seeing how he acted earlier meant everything.

"Groot?" she hedged. The quiet tone of her voice prompted him to make an acknowledging noise. Her arms gave his waist a light squeeze in response, "Do you remember when I told you men make me uncomfortable?"

Groot stared straight ahead and nodded.

"I did the same things those people on Halfworld forced you to do. Men, women, it didn't matter. I did what they wanted out of desperation and fear. Many years have passed since I last had to...but I often feel as if the acts I performed are written in the scars my skin and everyone is judging me by them. Sometimes, it is easier for me to push people away before they reject me."

His expression softened with sympathy even though she couldn't see it. He hardly moved at all. She was opening to him and he didn't want to hamper it.

"You never make me feel like less, Groot. I will always be grateful for that. I- oh," her cheek pressed tighter against the center of his chest, "Your heart makes three sounds, not two. Is your heartbeat always this loud?"

Groot chortled and playfully rested his chin atop her head. She heard his heart so clearly because her ear rested exactly where his chest cavity narrowed, which created a megaphone effect that let her hear all six valves.

They continued their embrace in silence while the wind gusted around them. Groot relaxed his arms when Gamora started to step back. Her cheek, chest and one side were covered in mud. She wiped it off her face and chuckled softly as she smeared it between her fingers.

"I've been covered in worse," Gamora remarked. Growing serious again, she looked up at his eyes even though he didn't reciprocate it directly. "Are you feeling better now?"

Groot nodded emphatically as rain blew under the ship's wing.

The smile she offered could light the darkest cavern.

"I better go wash off before this dries. Do you want me to take that inside with me?"

" _ **I**_ am Groot."

He let her take his data pad. She wiped her feet on the grass like Drax did and ascended the ramp into the _Milano_.

Now the rain roared as a downpour. Groot happily stepped out under the deluge, extended his hands and let it rinse the mud off him. The delicious scent swirled into his slit-like nostrils and he welcomed it happily.

No more trigger odor, which meant no more flashbacks. Nothing in the world felt better. Elated, he jumped up and down, flapping his hands and laughing like he just heard the universe's funniest joke.

Then he sprinted for the pond and plunged in butt-first, expecting to hit and make a big splat. Instead, he submerged in chilly water just deep enough to lift his head above the surface when he stood up. The velvety soft pond-bed was wonderful under his feet.

A second splash sounded behind him.

"Ack! C-Cold!" Rocket bobbed up and down in the water, shivering, "G-Glad to see you feeling b-better."

Groot made a humming noise and slapped the pond's surface with his palms, mimicking the patter of rain. Rocket couldn't feel the faint currents from the stream feeding this pond like he could.

"Drax is almost d-done in there."

"I am Groot?"

Rocket stopped kicking his feet when Groot slipped a hand under his butt for him to sit on.

"Nobody's in a hurry t-to get you b-back inside. J-Just thought you'd w-want to know how it's g-going." His teeth chattered and he shook like a living earthquake, "Brr! C-Cold!"

Of course. Rocket had a higher internal temperature than someone like Drax, Gamora or Quill. Combined with his small size and all the metal inside him, well, it was no wonder the pond felt so cold to him.

Groot lifted Rocket out of the water and set him gently on the pond's edge. He climbed out himself, rinsed the mud off his hands and watched Rocket shake off. It didn't do much good with the rain pounding down.

"I...am **Groot...** "

"Why?" Rocket looked up. He shivered less violently now that he wasn't immersed in cold water anymore. "You didn't do anyth-"

Groot slapped himself on the chest emphatically, "I...am _**GROOT**_ **.** "

Understanding dawned on Rocket's face. The same expression he got when he came up with ideas for some new gadget. Then he chuckled, lightly patting Groot's leg.

"You know my core triggers, but you can't anticipate the random ones any more than I can. Kinda like your sensory issues. Sometimes, shit happens." He nodded towards the _Milano_ , "I didn't know bleach triggered you. Should've considered it since the smell of iodine puts me back in the operating room. Where did the bleach take you?"

Another wind gust brought pleasant scents within the rain. Wildflowers bloomed somewhere in the southwest. Groot breathed in the outdoors and exhaled three syllables expressing his memories of gray walls, the cage, the empty food bowl, voices calling him stupid, yellow hands preventing him from self-soothing and the bright recessed parabolic troffer lights. The bleach smell permeated everything in the place, so it made him remember everything.

"Sounds like you went through what I was going through when I stumbled out of the Sri Yantra," Rocket's whiskers twitched, "I guess we both took a walk in Hell tonight. You took care of me, I took care of you. Let's call it even."

"I **am** Groot?"

"Tch, I quit flaring when I ate the salad. I said not to worry about me, you idiot. I'm okay. Are you okay?"

Nodding, Groot extended his index finger. Rocket grasped it. They shook hands, the gesture sealing their tacitly mutual apology.

"The preparations are complete!" Drax called from the airlock.

"Groot is gonna be the judge of that," Rocket yelled back. He glanced up at Groot, "Ready to test it?"

" _I_ am Groot," said Groot. He followed Rocket up the ramp, sniffed the air and...

...no bleach smells. Not a whiff. Nothing. In its place, a lovely outdoorsy scent like a field of wild lavender flowers.

Groot spun to face Drax, who he noticed was clean and wearing dark gray pants instead of blue. He beamed brightly and clapped both hands on his shoulders to thank him. This all happened because he correctly deduced the necessary course of action. Drax's muscles tensed at the sudden grab. He recovered, relaxed and mirrored the gesture on Groot. The smile he flashed in return needed no words.

Gamora emerged from the bunks area with the warmth of a shower lingering around her. She wore a loose deep crimson robe and her wet hair looked freshly combed. A brown towel dangled from her left hand. She bent and draped the towel around Rocket's shoulders when she noticed his shivering. The fluffy material enveloped him completely, leaving just his head exposed.

"Drax turned those flowers into some kind of incense," said Quill. He leaned on the wall just inside the airlock and yawned, "He told me to burn it by the air recycling unit so it gets in all the vents. How's it smell, Groot?"

Quill's yawn created a wave of them. It started at Drax, jumped to Gamora, nailed Rocket and hit Groot last. Groot chuckled after his yawn and acknowledged Quill's question by happily flapping his hands.

Everything was right in the world again.

.o

Wisps of lavender still permeated the air. Fainter than before, but it eliminated the bleach smell like the sea foam left behind after a wave.

Groot's dark brown eyes reflected the _Milano's_ control console. He gently steered the ship into a vertical descent. Purple hangar lights guided his movements. He eased the throttle forward to bring her in for a careful, albeit abrupt touchdown on the exposed landing pad. The pad slid inward, taking the ship inside without bumping so much as a wing on the outer doors.

An automated voice read off the landing pad number and advertised the list of casinos in the area.

Groot listened to the ad until it finished. He moved his finger left to right on the main console to shut off the _Milano's_ various systems. Engines first, navigations second and communications last. Just like Quill taught him.

Then he sat back in the pilot's seat to watch a colorful Sagevsal sunrise. Seeing the golden sun burst through tempestuous silver clouds was the perfect end to a rough night.

Elated, Groot unbuckled himself and carefully descended the stairs to alert everyone else of the majestic scene still unfolding.

They were all sound asleep at the kitchen table.

Drax snored with his chin propped upon the crook of his elbow. Quill drooled while his cheek rested directly on the table's surface. Gamora pillowed her head on the towel she draped around Rocket earlier. And Rocket was sprawled in a prone position _on_ the table.

Groot didn't have the heart to wake his friends after what he put them through, so he gathered the topmost blankets off two bunks. Both were just large enough to cover everyone with some overlap. He rocked his weight from foot to foot and observed their peaceful faces.

Did they realize they acted like Flora Colossi last night?

Did they realize how grateful he felt to know them?

Pondering it made Groot's brain itch. He yawned broadly without covering his mouth. The previous night wasn't just exhausting for his friends. Their contented faces and quiet snoring beckoned to him. How could he resist?

He sat in the last empty seat at the table, bowed his head and joined his Forest in slumber.

.o

.o

 _"...You know love is everything you say;  
a whisper, a word, promises you give.  
You feel it in the heartbeat of the day.  
You know this is the way love is..."_

-Enya, "Amarantine"


End file.
